The Torchwood Christmas Sweater Party
by Gmariam
Summary: In which Jack gifts the team with matching, yet personalized, Christmas jumpers.


The Torchwood Christmas Sweater Party

Jack opened another bottle of wine and began to refill everyone's glasses. Gwen and Ianto, surprisingly chummy on the sofa, thanked him with some sort of unintelligible Welsh toast. Tosh protested, but Jack gave her his puppy dog eyes and she sighed; he smiled, she nodded, and he filled the glass.

"What's one more, since I'm certainly not driving home in this state," she said, taking a long, happy sip.

"None of us are," Ianto said. "We'll have to call cabs."

"Or just bugger off downstairs," Owen muttered. He was sprawled in the chair, legs thrown over the side as he tossed a red plastic ornament in the air. There was no wine or pasta for him, and he looked more sour about it than usual. Jack felt bad, knowing it was his fault that Owen was stuck in this undead state, yet he was so grateful to spend another Christmas with Owen and the rest of his team that he set it aside so he could enjoy as much time with the grumpy doctor as he could.

"We're not buggering off downstairs," Ianto replied. "Too bloody crowded for a…a quintet down there."

"I wasn't suggesting the lot of us," Owen replied.

"It's cold, too," Ianto continued. "Much warmer at home. Cozy. Lots of blankets."

"Is that an invitation?" Jack asked.

"I don't know. Tosh, do you want to come home with me?"

"Hey!" Jack exclaimed while the other three laughed and Owen rolled his eyes.

"Sharing is caring, Jack," Tosh replied, eyes sparkling over the rim of her glass.

"And I don't care to share," Jack told her. For some reason that sent both Tosh and Gwen into another fit of giggles. Which meant it was probably a good time to bring out his gift to the team.

"I'll make it up to you with a gift, though. Wait here." He dashed into his office and grabbed the large plastic bag hidden under his desk.

"Oh, good thing I didn't chuck it in the rubbish bin this morning," Ianto said when he returned. "I was wondering what that was for."

"You peeked!" Jack set the bag on the table and put his hands on his hips. "What are you, ten years old?"

"When it comes to surprises, yes. I don't like them. I prefer to be prepared."

"Did you search the house for your Christmas presents when you were a kid, too?"

"Found them every time," Ianto answered proudly.

"Nothing can prepare you for these," Jack replied. He took out five packages, each wrapped in the most hideous paper he could find at Tesco, complete with the biggest bows. He'd thought about trying to wrap each persons' gift in their favorite color, or buying expensive paper with matching ribbons and cards. But Jack suspected neither would be appreciated by his team, and knew Owen and Ianto would find something to take the piss over. This way, he met their lowest expectations, freeing him from any pressure and leaving him to enjoy their reactions.

"Happy Christmas," Jack said. "I know it's been another long, hard year, but we've stuck it out and done some good in the world. This is my small thank-you."

"Jack, you shouldn't have," Gwen protested, happily taking her gift and smiling at him.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have," Owen agreed. "Seeing as there's really nothing a dead man can use."

"And we didn't get you anything," Tosh added.

"I did," Ianto offered, and everyone stopped and looked at him. "What? He's my boss."

"Did you get him a fountain pen?" Owen's voice dripped with sarcasm. Ianto smiled serenely.

"Not exactly, but I don't think you want to know."

"I don't. Gwen, you're the giddiest, you start."

Gwen opened her present, gleefully ripping the paper and tossing it on the floor. Jack could see Ianto holding back the urge to pick it up, or at least say something about picking it up. He mimed taking a drink, and Ianto finished his glass. Nodding in approval, Jack refilled it; they could clean up the mess later.

The silence as Gwen pulled her gift from the box was, as they say, deafening.

"Oh my," she said, and it wasn't an excited sort of exclamation, but more of a strangled observation laced with confusion. "It's, er…a sweater?"

She held up a cable-knit sweater, bright green and bearing the Torchwood crest in large hexagons down the middle. Along the neck, the bottom, and both arms was a knit pattern of holly leaves interspersed with something that looked like a heart…and yet didn't.

"Du mawr," said Ianto.

"Um," said Tosh.

"Bloody hell," said Owen. "Are those supposed to be some sort of organ?"

"They're hearts," Jack said. "Congratulations, you've opened the first official Torchwood sweater."

"Thank you," said Gwen, who looked ready to burst out laughing. "Really, it's lovely."

"Official Torchwood sweater?" asked Owen. "With livers stitched all over it? We don't drink that much."

"If they were livers, I would have given it to you," Jack told him. "They're hearts, because Gwen has a big heart. Open yours next."

"Do I have to?" Owen muttered.

"Get it over with," Ianto advised, tipping his glass at the doctor.

Owen muttered some more and opened his gift. He pulled a large green jumper from the box, complete with Torchwood hexagons, but in place of the hearts, his design was done in holly leaves and crowns. He snorted as he held it up.

"King of the Weevils, that's me. Thanks for that."

"You're welcome. Who's next—Tosh? Ianto?"

"Go ahead," Ianto said quickly. "Ladies first." Tosh didn't argue, but set down her drink, opened her gift, and found another sweater, personalized with tiny pairs of glasses knit along the edges.

"Oh," she said. "Um, thank you. I like the glasses."

"It's for your intelligence and ability to see things the rest of us don't," Jack said, smiling at her.

"And because she has a crush on Harry Potter," Ianto added.

"I do not!" Tosh exclaimed as Gwen and Jack laughed.

"I think you've got the best one yet," Owen said, sounding sincere and earning a surprised look from Tosh. "Your turn, teaboy. What'd the boss get his PA, then?"

Ianto finished his glass of wine—he must be feeling it, but with the exception of a slightly looser tongue, he was hiding it remarkably well. Or maybe it was because of the alcohol that he took off the paper with deliberate slowness, setting the bow on Gwen's head with a flourish. He turned the box around and opened it so no one else could see what was inside, but Jack noticed a small smile. Without warning, Ianto stood, the box falling to the floor as he pulled the green sweater over his head in one swift move. Which was when Jack knew Ianto had definitely had enough wine to be feeling it.

"Brilliant," said Ianto "Thank you."

"Bloody hell, you got him stopwatches." Owen looked disgusted.

"It's the button on the top," Ianto told him, making a rude gesture with his hand.

"You know you're wearing a sex toy, right?" Owen asked. "You're a walking fetish in a jumper instead of a suit."

"At least I'm getting great—"

"Don't say it."

"Everyday."

"Stop it."

"You can borrow it if you want."

Jack loved his team. He loved their banter and teasing and sass. He loved their hearts, their minds, their beautiful uniqueness. He'd never admit it, but he especially loved Ianto and his dry sense of humor, his dirty thoughts, and especially his old soul. Jack knew he was lucky to have such a team, and such a man, in his life. But before he grew sentimental or even maudlin, he had his own jumper to share. Pulling the last one from the bag, he put it on and did a quick turn for the others.

"Are those…bananas?" asked Tosh, while Gwen stared, her mouth open like a fish. Ianto raised an eyebrow, and Owen cackled.

"Of course not! They're cocks! Jack got himself a sweater full of cocks!"

Jack glanced at his sweater and grinned. "No, they're supposed to be bananas."

"I thought you hated bananas?" Owen asked, clearly skeptical.

"No, he doesn't." Ianto was pouring himself more wine. Jack cleared his throat, Ianto glanced up, then pointedly ignored him and kept pouring—and talking. "He loves them."

"How do you know Jack loves bananas?" Gwen asked, bumping him on the shoulder.

"Because he always—well," he coughed, completely fake, and then winked. "Use your imagination."

Ianto grinned, placing his glass to his lips. He caught Jack's eye, though, and gave him a sort of half-wink that Jack felt both in his pants and in his chest. Yes, this man was special.

"It's true," Jack said. "I do love bananas. Great shape, great taste."

"I don't like bananas," Tosh said into the silence following his declaration.

"He's not talking about bananas," Owen said. Gwen exchanged a look with Tosh and they broke into giggles again. Ianto shook his head and took another drink. Jack wondered how much longer Ianto was going to last. He was hoping to exchange real presents later—and use them—before the Welshman passed out for the night.

"Let's take a group picture," Jack said. "And then call it a night. Sweaters on!"

"I'll take it," Owen grumbled as he stood. "Since I'm not entirely sure my image will appear on film."

"You're a zombie, not a vampire," said Ianto. He was slightly unsteady on his feet and Jack moved closer, steadying him and enjoying the way Ianto leaned into it.

"And you're a prat in a bright green jumper, not a gay fashion icon," Owen snapped, to which Ianto stuck out his tongue.

Gwen and Tosh pulled on their jumpers, but they were so large they started laughing yet again. Jack called Owen over to stand with them and told them all to look at the nearest security camera. A couple of lewd jokes and one tap of his wrist strap later, he had a few pictures of them laughing. Which he should probably destroy as soon as he saw them, but he wouldn't. He wanted to remember these people—his family.

They called two cabs, one for Tosh and Owen, who insisted on seeing her home safe, and one for Gwen, who was still laughing to herself as Jack paid the driver. He turned to find Ianto standing on the Plass behind him.

"No one gave you a hard time about staying," Jack pointed out.

"I'm not buggering off downstairs with you, if that's what you're expecting."

"So was that an invitation to go home with you, I hope?"

Ianto rolled his eyes, glanced around the mostly empty Plass, then reached for Jack's hand and pulled him close before Jack could protest. He smirked before leaning in to kiss him, something he rarely—if ever—did in public. Jack hoped it wasn't his only Christmas gift of the night.

"You had a lot of wine, didn't you?" he murmured when they broke apart. Ianto grinned and walked them toward the lift. They stayed close as they descended.

"I'm a Welshman, I can drink just about anyone under the table, including you," said Ianto.

Jack laughed, especially when Ianto stumbled off the lift and barely caught his balance. "You sure about that?" he asked.

"Positive, and I'll prove it when we're back home." He seemed to hear himself and turned, suddenly flustered. "I mean, if you wanted to come back to mine. I suppose I never really asked, I just assumed…"

"Of course I do," Jack replied. "I have something else for you, something that doesn't involve tacky Christmas sweaters."

They started toward Jack's office together, Jack walking behind Ianto as he weaved back and forth, ready to catch him if needed. Ianto grabbed some leftover bread from their take away meal and started eating it as he talked. "Oh, so you do realize they're hideous."

"You're still wearing yours."

"I didn't say I didn't like it," Ianto replied. "I happen to like stopwatches."

"And I like bananas," Jack tossed back, waiting for the response.

"Those are not bananas," Ianto said. He stopped at the office door, turned around, and ran his hand along Jack's sweater. "Those are clearly very large penises. Everywhere. Who did you have make these? How did you get them to sew a cock onto your jumper?"

He went into the office before Jack could grab him and kiss him right there. And before he could answer, which was a good thing as Ianto would probably not appreciate the answer.

"Let me grab my things," he said, climbing down into his bunker. Ianto fell into a chair and leaned back, his eyes closed.

"I'll wait here," he said. "Don't forget that last gift."

"How did you know there was another?"

"I know everything," Ianto replied. "And I do your laundry. Don't hide things in your wardrobe if you don't want me to find them."

"How do you know it's for you?" Jack called up.

"It has my name on it!"

Jack laughed to himself and tossed the gift—carefully—into his overnight bag with a few other things he'd need for a hopefully extended stay at Ianto's flat. When he returned to his office, Ianto appeared asleep in the chair. Jack dropped a large book on his desk and snickered when Ianto flailed to a standing position.

"Sure about that table?" he asked innocently. He began to shut things down from his office, rerouting alarms and security to his wrist strap and the team's PDAs.

"I'm still standing, aren't I? A few glasses of water and I'll be ready for more wine and some dessert."

"Oh, there's more?"

"I've got your favorite bottle of red on the counter," Ianto said. "Picked it up yesterday with a chocolate mousse cake." He paused. "Although there are other kinds of desserts, too."

Jack chuckled as he helped Ianto into his coat and slipped his arm through the Welshman's elbow. He received an exasperated look, but pecked him on the cheek and got an even better eye roll.

"Sounds perfect. We'll grab a few bottles of water as we leave so you're up to it."

"I am always up for it."

The Hub was dark, and high above them Jack could hear Myfanwy chirping softly in her nest. They left through the tourist office, making sure everything was put away and locked securely. The night was clear and cold, the moon reflecting off the bay. Ianto walked over to the railing, and for a moment, Jack thought the other man might be sick. Instead, he was staring across the water with a small smile on his face.

"You okay?" Jack asked.

Ianto turned to him and nodded. "Yeah, the fresh air is good. Thank you—for dinner, for the jumper, for a good night. For later, " he added with a smirk. "And since I'll probably forget, or not feel nearly as unguarded, happy Christmas, Jack. I'm glad you're…and that we're…well, I'm glad."

Jack moved closer, enjoying their closeness. "You're welcome, and thank you, for…well, for everything. I'm not sure what I would have done, if I'd come back and you…" He trailed off with a crooked smile, words lost as they veered into dangerously emotional territory, at least for them. "I'm glad too."

They exchanged a long look, unspoken words floating in the air between them, charged with emotion. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, and Jack thought he might blurt out something he'd regret later, before Ianto cleared his throat and spoke first.

"Ready, then? I have something for you, too." And just like that, the spell was broken, but Jack enjoyed their banter as much as anything else. He took Ianto's hand, waited for him to pull away, and when he didn't, Jack grinned happily.

"I love it already," he teased. "What is it?"

Ianto glanced sideways at him. "A sweater for your bananas," he replied with complete seriousness. He kept the straight face even as Jack burst out laughing.

"I can't wait to try it out," he said, and finally Ianto joined him, and they walked hand-in-hand to Ianto's car, talking and laughing, occasionally stumbling when Ianto lost his balance. Jack took the keys and drove them back to Ianto's flat, where they drank more wine, exchanged gifts, and celebrated some more in Ianto's bed.

It would be one of Jack's favorite Christmas memories for years to come, and he cherished every moment with Ianto, wearing their Torchwood sweaters as they watched old movies and held each other close all night.

* * *

Author's Note:  
For cozsheep and her wonderful Torchwood Christmas fan art! This was inspired by her drawing of the team with Suzie in green sweaters, but as I wanted to set it later in Jack and Ianto's relationship, Suzie is sadly absent. As so often happens, what started out light-hearted ended up more serious. Sorry this is so late, but I hope you, and everyone else, enjoyed it. Thank you for reading!


End file.
